


oh, i need not be flattered

by vogelwrites



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Degradation, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Dom Tim, Exhibitionism, Humiliation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Name-Calling, Off-Screen Kink Negotiation, Office Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sub Martin, Trans Martin Blackwood, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Humiliation, but not really?, it's in the archives but everyone else has gone home, light begging, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22398328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogelwrites/pseuds/vogelwrites
Summary: “Youreallycouldn’t wait until I was done? Had to rub your legs together in your chair like ateenager?"
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 31
Kudos: 312





	oh, i need not be flattered

**Author's Note:**

> \- set before season one of magnus.  
> \- martin is trans, "clit" is the word used, with "hole" appearing once. if that makes you uncomfy, you might wanna skip this one.  
> \- martin and tim have done things like this before, which is alluded to in the fic.  
> \- title is from the ghosts of beverly drive by death cab for cutie!  
> \- thanks to my partner in nsfw crime parker for encouraging my filth. i appreciate you.

Martin’s _bored_. Jon hasn’t required his assistance all day, and he’s nearly run out of things to do. So it’s not his fault, really, when his mind goes to things that are less than appropriate. Like the way Tim has been chewing on his pen for the past ten minutes. Tim’s tongue keeps darting out and licking around the tip of the pen, and Martin can’t seem to tear his eyes away.

“...Right, Martin?” Sasha asks from across the room. Martin starts, eyes jumping over to where Sasha is looking at him expectantly. He racks his brain, trying to remember what she said to him. Realizing he has no idea, he just shrugs.

“Yeah! Right, I guess,” He says back. Sasha just rolls her eyes (fondly) and gives him a knowing smile, her own eyes flicking over to Tim. Martin can feel his cheeks start to burn and he looks away, grabbing a random file and studying it like his life depends on it. The heat in his cheeks is spreading throughout his body at the thought of getting caught staring. 

He looks back over at Tim. Takes in his furrowed eyebrows, his tongue poking out of his mouth a tiny bit like it always does when he’s concentrating on something. _That tongue,_ Martin thinks, remembering the way Tim ate him out until he nearly cried no more than a week ago. He inadvertently crosses his legs, wiggling a bit in his chair. He usually knows better than to think about this kind of thing at work but he has nothing else to do, and with Tim sitting _right there_ it’s kind of hard not to.

About half an hour later, Sasha yawns, getting out of her chair. She waves goodbye to both Martin and Tim, and leaves the office without further comment. Once he hears the door to the archive swing shut, Martin realizes he and Tim are completely alone, as Jon actually left early for once in his life. Martin allows his mind to wander, picturing Tim kissing him at his desk, taking his wrists in his hands and pushing them against the wood surface, effectively locking Martin in place…

Martin’s thighs squeeze together a little harder, and he fails to suppress a shiver when he thinks about Tim fingering him while Martin’s still sat in his desk chair. His face burns again, and he sneaks a glance at Tim, hoping he hasn’t picked up on anything. Fortunately, Tim still has his eyes glued to his computer screen. The pen is in his mouth again, and he’s absentmindedly twirling his tongue around the end of it. Martin thinks about Tim’s tongue swirling on his clit, just enough pressure to feel good without overstimulating him, and he brings his hand up to his mouth a fraction of a second too late as a small whimper escapes his lips. _This_ gets Tim’s attention. Tim turns toward Martin, cocks his head to the side while taking in Martin’s certainly debauched state, and gives a wicked smile.

“ _Martin_ ,” Tim says, putting on a fake scandalized tone. “Was that… a moan I heard? In the _office_?” He gets up from his chair and comes over to Martin’s, standing behind him. He runs a hand up Martin’s neck and into Martin’s hair where he grabs a small handful. He doesn’t pull, just grabs it, letting Martin know he’s there.

“I, er-” Martin starts, but Tim’s grip in his hair tightens and he closes his mouth as to not let another whimper out. He can feel his boxers getting wet, can feel his clit throbbing with need. 

“You _really_ couldn’t wait until I was done? Had to rub your legs together in your chair like a _teenager_? I bet you’re fucking soaked for me. Huh?” He bends down at the waist, putting his mouth next to Martin’s ear. “You know your safeword?” He whispers, kissing the shell of Martin’s ear. Martin shivers, nods. “Tell me.”

“December.” Martin says. Tim furrows his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. 

“Was that so hard?” Tim asks, leaning a little further and attaching his mouth to Martin’s neck. Martin gasps, hips bucking up of their own accord. Tim chuckles into his neck. “You’re desperate for it, aren’t you? Aching for me.”

Martin tilts his head, exposing more of his neck for Tim. He breathes out. “Yes.”

“What was that, Martin?” Tim asks, tugging Martin’s hair a bit. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

Martin can feel his face getting redder by the second. “Yes, Tim,” he says, louder this time. Tim kisses his ear again.

“That’s what I thought. What do you want, Martin. You you want my mouth? My fingers? What is it that’s got you all riled up, huh? What were you thinking about over here that turned you on so quickly?” Tim runs his hands down Martin’s front, skirting the edge of his trousers expertly. “Or was it nothing in particular? Are you just that much of a _slut,_ Martin? So needy, so desperate for me to touch you in any way at all, that you couldn’t hold it in _at work_?”

Martin whines wantonly, pushing his entire body upwards and into Tim’s touch. “Want- want you, Tim.” 

Tim’s eyes shine with mischief and arousal. Martin has noticed the obvious tent in his pants. “Gotta be more specific, Martin. I know you’re eager, you’ve been rubbing your legs together since before Sasha left, but you have to tell me what you need.”

He groans in frustration, hips bucking in a desperate attempt to get some friction where he needs it. Tim laughs, pushing his hips back down into the chair with little difficulty. “Ah, ah. Use your words. I know you’re a slut, but I didn’t think you were an _idiot_. If you don’t tell me what you want, I’m going to assume you don’t want anything. It’s time for me to pack up anyways.”

“Mouth! Want… want your mouth.” Martin finally manages to say. Tim smiles and kneels next to Martin’s chair, kissing him hard. They kiss for a while, but Tim doesn’t try and deepen the kiss or touch Martin anywhere but his head, and Martin realizes what’s going on. “Tim!” He says, laughing a bit.

“What? You said you wanted my mouth. I gave it to you,” Tim has a smug smile on this face. “Unless… did you want my mouth somewhere else, Martin?”

Martin nods, turning his head away. Tim grabs his chin and makes Martin face him. “Where did you want it? Here?” He asks, placing a chaste kiss to Martin’s neck. Martin shakes his head. “Hm. What about…. here?” Tim runs his hands underneath Martin’s shirt, lifting it slightly. Martin flushes even deeper and lifts his arms above his head, allowing Tim to take his shirt off. Once that’s off, he moves himself until he’s on his knees in between Martin’s legs.

“Tim…” Martin sighs. Tim looks up at him, flushed and shaking slightly, from his place on the floor. Martin can see the pure lust in Tim’s eyes. Tim presses his face against the inside of one of Martin’s thighs and puts his hands on Martin’s zipper, questioning. Martin nods just enough for Tim to see.

“You want me _here_ , don’t you, Martin. Want my mouth on your clit, huh?” Tim taunts, making quick work of Martin’s trousers. Martin has to lift his hips up, but in a few moments he’s completely stripped of his clothing. “Martin. I asked you something,” Tim says, nipping at the skin of Martin’s thigh. Martin is acutely aware of his lack of clothing as he looks at Tim, who has yet to remove anything.

Martin gasps. “Yes.”

Tim makes a _tsk, tsk_ sound with his tongue. “Yes, what? What do you want?” His mouth is tantalizingly close to Martin’s core, and Martin can feel his breath on his clit.

“ _Tim_ ,” Martin whines, trying to jerk his hips toward Tim’s mouth. Tim has his hips held down firmly, not allowing him any movement. “I… I want- do I really have to say it?” He feels like his face has never been redder, and Tim’s just staring at him, taking it all in. 

“Are you too much of a baby to tell me what you want, Martin? Get a little embarrassed and all of a sudden you can’t speak? I thought you were better than this. Useless,” Tim says, starting to stand. Martin splutters, can feel his clit throbbing, begging to be touched.

“Wait-!” He cries. Tim stops, a wicked grin on his face. “I want you toeatmeout, Tim. There.”

Tim shakes his head. “I didn’t quite catch that, Blackwood.” Despite his words, Tim settles back in between Martin’s legs and runs his hands up the other man’s thighs. He leans in, and puts his mouth _inches_ from where Martin needs it. He looks up at Martin, smirking. “Gotta say it louder, or you’re not getting it.”

“Fuck, Tim, I want- I want you to eat me out. Please. Want your mouth on my clit and your fingers inside of me. I want it so bad, if you don’t touch me in the next ten seconds I’m actually going to die.” He’s shivering as he says it, and his eyes are locked with Tim’s, pleading.

Tim gives him a wide smile and leans forward, wrapping his lips around Martin’s clit. Martin groans loudly, then shoves his fist as far in his mouth as it can go. Tim replaces his mouth with two of his fingers, stroking Martin while he says, “Be careful, Martin. Make too much noise and someone is going to come down here and see how much of a whore you really are.” Martin whimpers through his fist. “God, look at you. Shaking and whining after only a few seconds. I’ve barely touched you. You’re such a little slut, god, it’s embarrassing,’ he laughs, and puts his mouth back on Martin. 

“Hng-” Martin tries to muffle his moan. Tim takes it as encouragement (it is) and presses a finger against Martin’s hole. Martin groans and bucks his hips towards it, and Tim presses it in, crooking it immediately. Martin nearly falls out of his chair with how hard he shakes, biting down on his fist to not cry out. 

Tim fingers him with expertise, alternating between licking and sucking on his clit, and changing the amount of fingers along with the angle of them to absolutely ruin Martin’s life. It’s perfect but it’s not quite _enough_ , and Martin is wiggling his hips and straining to try and get over the edge. Tim notices.

“Do you wanna come, Martin?” Martin nods frantically. “Beg for it.”

Martin groans and removes his fist from his mouth. “Tim, please. Please it feels so good I love your mouth, you always know exactly how to use it. Please, please let me come I need to so bad,” He cries, and tim considers for a moment.

“What are you, Martin? I think you’re a slut, begging for me to get you off after you couldn’t keep it in your pants at work. Hm? Just a desperate little whore for me.” Martin cries out at this, hips jerking of their own accord.

“You know how much of a- of a _slut_ I am, Tim.” He’s not used to saying things like this, about himself or anyone else, but he’s discovering that he _loves it_. He thinks Tim can tell, too.

“I want to hear you say it.” Yeah. Tim knows.

“Fuck!” Tim shoves two fingers into him roughly, mouth returning to his clit with fervor. “I’m a slut, Tim. Your- your _whore_. I need to come so bad, please. I need it.” He’s crying now, tears flowing from his eyes, hips bucking madly. He’s never felt this humiliated and this turned on in his entire life. 

“Then come.”

Martin nearly screams when he finally orgasms. He manages to throw his hand over his mouth at the last possible second, and he’s sure the entire upstairs would have heard him if he hadn’t. He trembles violently, thighs closing around Tim’s head for a few seconds before he’s able to open them again. Tim works him through the aftershocks, lapping gently at his clit, and then slowly removes his fingers, mindful of Martin’s increased sensitivity. Martin looks down at him. Tim is resting his head on one of Martin’s thighs and smiling wistfully.

“Uh- do you, um, need me to-”

Tim gives him a strong smile. “Later. I’m taking you home.”

Martin’s already deep blush deepens even further. “Oh- oh! Okay!”

Tim gives him a few more seconds to get himself together, and then helps pull him to his feet. Martin gets dressed quickly enough, and the two pack up and head to the nearest train station. They’re about halfway to Tim’s flat when tim wraps his hand around Martin’s wrist and squeezes.

“So… December? Did something happen?” Tim asks, genuine concern showing on his face. “You- you don’t have to tell me, obviously! Just… trying to strike up a conversation.” He looks sheepish.

Martin blanks for a second, and then remembers Tim asking him to repeat his safeword earlier. “Oh, that! No, no, nothing like that… it’s- Keats, actually. A, uh, a poem.”

Tim smiles. “That… sounds exactly like you, Martin.”

“Thank you? I think.” He laughs, and so does Tim. He leans over, resting his head on Tim’s shoulder for the rest of the ride. He starts to doze off on Tim’s shoulder when the train stops and Tim tugs lightly on his arm. Martin looks up blearily. 

Tim pulls him out of his seat, gives him a heart-stopping smile, and says, “Ready for round two?”

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are literally the light of my life. please please please leave them.


End file.
